When Good Men Do Nothing
by StarscreamRox's
Summary: Man's curiosity is a dangerous thing, even more so when it goes unchecked.
1. Chapter 1

Sorry for being away so long. Life got in the way. And also sorry that there is, as of yet, not CH 2 for FEAR: Awakening. Somethings need to be cleaned up and taken care of first though if it's going to have everything I want in it AND run smoothly. Sorry for the wait. In the meant time, here is a little bit from another fic I'm doing.

This story will revolve around some of the first replica clones, clones which will make an appearance of sorts in FEAR: Awakening, as well as Charles Habegger (because I just thought that guy was neat for some reason). This story will make references to some of the other FEAR fan fics I'm writing as well. Forewarning, there may be some time line screw ups regarding which projects in the game were started when. With all the changes of hand the game series has undergone, I feel some of the information on certain background plot items has suffered, not all of it, just pieces here and there. Add this to the fact that not all of the projects mentioned in the game have a date as to when exactly they were started and branching out and fiddling with plausible background stories becomes darn near impossible. That being said, I'm going to do the best I can in making things accurate as far as the game's history and what not goes (with a few exceptions) but mistakes may be made. Also, I'm not a doctor, I don't know if some of these things are even possible. But this is FEAR we're talking about, so if mistakes are made, please take them with a grain of science fiction salt lol.

In any event, here is When Good Men Do Nothing! It will likely be shorter then the others, but hopefully just as good. Please read, review, but most of all, enjoy!

* * *

"This can't be happening…," he breathed.

_He was trying to forget…He was trying so hard to forget…_

"I can't explain it either, Chuck," Harlan said with a sigh. "The timing…it's worrisome, to say the least."

Charles Habegger sighed again. "I can't believe this…Have you checked the tapes?"

"Watched them myself," Harlan said, his eyes never leaving the vat. "They split the moment the first body hit the floor."

"Two?"

Harland nodded. "Two. Not counting the other project. Three total. Hadn't anticipated that."

"I can't believe this…I can't fucking believe this…," he said as he slumped down in a nearby chair, at long last looking up at the vat that contained Armacham's latest monstrosity. "First clone, AR-1, already showing worrisome signs…and now this? _This? _Fucking_…twins?"_

Harlan cleared his throat, removing his glasses to clean them, as was his usual tick. "Clearly Armacham's cloning division still has a few kinks to work out," he said flatly. "There was mention of addressing such issues in the next project."

"No shit?" Chuck snorted. "AR-1's been out how long?"

Harlan returned his glasses to their proper place and glanced at his watch. "Seventeen hours, and fifteen minutes as of this moment…"

"And what are his read outs?"

"You know the researchers would scream if they heard you say that."

"And they can kiss my ass," Chuck scoffed. "What are _his _read outs?"

Harlan smirked. "Not what they were hoping for," he said dryly, "which is exactly what I remember us telling them when they proposed we try to make the army out of another genetic cocktail."

Chuck laughed. "We told them a lot of things, Harlan," he said with a sigh as he leaned back in his chair. "They have yet to listen to a damn thing we've said either."

"No…no they haven't…" he said shaking his head. "At least, not to the things they should have…"

Chuck got up from his seat and walked over to the vat, now containing two. His brain still couldn't grasp it. Call it paranoia, but things were getting a bit too coincidental around the lab as of late.

He sighed heavily again. "Twins…" he echoed. "Fucking twins…"

Silence crept into the room, looming over the two men until Chuck at last turned to Harlan, uncertainty written across his face. "What now?" he asked.

"You're asking me?" he laughed bitterly. "We've seen what a fine mess I've made. Seven good men are dead because of me. I pushed that boy over the edge, and now look what he's done?"

Chuck opened his mouth to speak but Harlan cut him off.

"Don't," he said quietly. "Just…don't…"

Frustration rising, he realized that perhaps Paxton wasn't the only thing that had snapped today. Chuck breathed heavily out his nose, air hissing as he did, noting his anger. He turned back to the vat. "Has the board reached a decision as far as what's going to happen to these two?" he inquired, changing the subject quickly before tempers started to flare.

"Meeting's tomorrow morning," Harlan replied flatly. "Though I suspect we know the answer. They'll want to see how these two develop, want to know what else they did wrong so the next batch will be better."

Chuck's skinned crawled at the thought. "Just what this world needs," he thought, "more little monsters running around in dark, underground corridors, waiting to get out."

"Think we should flush them?"

Harlan laughed sharply, frightening Chuck, nearly making him jump. "They split at the moment of synchronicity…What do you think?"

"…Point."

"No fuck…"

There was another pause before Harlan spoke again. "Go home, Chuck, go home to your wife, try to forget this happened," he sighed.

Chuck laughed bitterly and it was Harlan's turn to raise a quizzical brow. "Liz left me months ago," he said suddenly, no expression on his face.

Harlan observed him for a moment, noting the blank expression before responding. "Chuck…why didn't you…?"

"What's the point? She's better off anyways. Doesn't have to get caught up in the fallout of all of…_this_," he said with a motion of his hand to the rest of the lab.

Harlan stood quietly for a moment, considering his friend's words before clearing his throat awkwardly. "Well, get some rest then. I need you to help me try to beat some sense into these idiots tomorrow morning, need to prepare a brief."

"I got your fucking brief," Chuck scoffed, "put that fucking security tape on fucking loop. There's your fucking brief."

Harlan smirked slightly but shook his head. "If only that were enough," he sighed.

"Yeah…if only…" Chuck sighed as he stole one last glance at the vat before they sealed the lab up for the night.


	2. Chapter 2

At last, chapter two is all nice and finished. Many thanks to Calumongal for the rockin review! Much love! This little story will be shorter than the others, but hopefully no less interesting. Do stay tuned. This fic is only going to get darker from here on out.

If you like and want more, please leave a review, as they fuel the writer's creative fire :) Hope yall enjoy!

* * *

"Too long…"

That's what the board had said.

It was taking them too long to grow, to mature. But their read outs were peculiar, so the board had agreed to keep them for "observational purposes".

"Observational purposes my ass," Chuck thought as he peered over his computer at the vats that now held the twins. "Their readouts suggest they might be the next golden geese and they don't want to flush 'em till they know for sure, regardless of the danger they may pose to everyone else."

He had tried to drill his point across, to voice his concerns about the troublesome timing. But the board had refused to heed his warning on that first meeting, or any meeting thereafter, and now they were all but ignoring him.

They had called him paranoid.

"What would you have us call this than?" he thought aloud, voicing his retort to a past argument in a vacant room. The board wouldn't hear him, not now, and, if he was honest with himself, not ever. Listening just wasn't something they, or anyone employed by Armacham, did very well.

With a loud sigh, he shook his head and tried to stop ruminating over the entire thing. He had work to do, data to compile from AR-1's recent test batteries, but the vats' dull hums were beginning to grow distracting.

It was almost as if the twins were demanding his attention.

Chuck pushed the thought, and all of its implications, to the back of his mind. He simply plucked away at his key board, all the while eying the two heavily sedated abominations in bulletproof glass not twenty feet from him.

They'd gotten bigger. Much bigger. "How old were they now?" he wondered. He had forgotten their exact rate of accelerated aging. It was quick, just not quick enough. It had been five years since they'd become viable test subjects. They looked at least ten now though.

"Double the rate?" he thought. "Guess that's not fast enough for Armacham."

He stole another glance at them over his monitor. They were nearly motionless in their fluid suspension, idly floating in a plethora of chemical compounds and various sedatives. Still as still could be. In spite of this, Chuck simply couldn't go back to his work. He couldn't shake the feeling that had been gnawing away at the back of his head for hours, the one he'd had since he'd been left alone in the lab with the gruesome twosome, the rest of the research team finally calling it a night.

The feeling that he was being watched.

Medically speaking it was absurd, he knew this. If the twins were any more sedated, they'd both be dead. But the feeling hadn't stopped. The paranoia hadn't stopped. That grating, clawing in the back of his head had—not—stopped.

Chuck pushed himself up from his desk with an angry huff. "This is fucking ridiculous," he swore aloud. "I can do this shit from home, I don't need this!"

He quickly gathered his things and hastily locked his computer, ever eager to get away from the dim glow cast by the giant vats that bore down on all in the lab like a giant, all seeing-eye. Once everything was prepped, he made a B line for the door, trying to not so much as look at the twins, but as he reached the door, something made him pause.

His ears had caught wind of a strange humming in the air, one he hadn't been aware of before. It was different from that of the vats', more high pitched. He paused for a moment, trying to pinpoint the source, but a loud surge from the vats made his head immediately jerk towards the twins.

Chuck glared at them irritably. "Very funny, you two," he murmured. Irritated, Chuck turned to leave, deciding that some other poor schmuck could worry with the humming when he caught the reflection of something in the vats' glass. Squinting against the glow, he turned to the source.

A lit computer monitor. Someone had failed to properly shutdown one of the computers.

Chuck groaned, "You have got to be _fucking_ kidding me! For fuck's sake, do I have to do everything in this damn facility?"

He angrily walked over to the computer, punched in the controls and shut it down. Mumbling a slew of curse words, he leaned over the desk and reached for the switch so that the monitor could follow suit. With a tired sigh, he stood back up to leave, when he suddenly felt the hairs on the back of his neck begin to stand on end.

The feeling was back, the one he'd had all damn night. The feeling that he was being watched.

Chuck swallowed hard and tried to calm himself. "Easy, old boy," he thought worriedly, "it's just your mind playing tricks on you...Nothing to be afraid—"

But the words died in his throat as his eyes found the source. In the reflection of black, black monitor, was the first of the twins, the more resilient one. He was floating idly in his liquid suspension, everything seemingly normal, save one thing.

His eyes. His eyes were wide open, and tracking Habegger's every move.

Chuck spun around on his heels, heart pounding in his chest. His eyes darted up to the abomination's face, fearing the worst.

But they were closed. Suddenly they were closed.

Chuck steadied himself, trying to breath. "Did I...?" he wondered, confusion creeping in alongside fear.

Had he imagined it all?

"No," he thought to himself, "no I wouldn't have just..." He glanced back over at the twins, both of them motionless within their tanks, eyes closed.

He shook his head, unable to deal with the situation. He had to be imagining things, he had to be. Because the reality of the alternative was far, far worse, and far too much for him to bear.

That night, a very troubled Charles Habegger drank himself to sleep as he kept one eye trained upon the shadows.


End file.
